


All The Ways

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff and Humor, John is Perfect, M/M, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 01:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15675306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: A rainy Monday, a cranky Sherlock and a loving John. Enough said.





	All The Ways

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneOfCakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneOfCakes/gifts).



> "Rainy days and Mondays always get me down." (The Carpenters- 1971.)
> 
> After watching The Lying Detective TWICE on PBS last night followed by The Child in Time, I needed some fluff; and Monday's? Pfffft!!

It didn't take a doctor or a blogger to recognize the signs, but John was both, and he did. Sprawled out on the sofa like a prickly starfish out of water, Sherlock was the picture of abject misery. This wasn't a strop or boredom. John shook his head in rueful amazement as the phrase "the sads" crossed his mind. Yep, his beautiful boyfriend had the sads and John was going to fix it.

 

"Hey gorgeous, mind if I sit with you?"

 

"There's no room, John, but I doubt that will discourage you."

 

"Too right, you. Lift up, that's it. Put that big brain of yours in my lap."

 

"Removing my brain from my..."

 

"No, just no. Not starting this little talk with sass from you. Obviously you are in a funk, shall I deduce why?"

 

"I DO NOT have funks, but feel free to embarrass yourself."

 

"Good, glad you approve. First it's raining; second you are ARE in a funk, but we can call it suffering ennui if it suits your posh self better; and third it's Monday. My professional diagnosis is you have the Monday Blues."

 

"Nonsense, John. Clearly there is nothing blue about me if you would only bother to observe."

 

"Yeah, I'll grant you those pirate pyjamas bottoms aren't blue and neither is your t-shirt, but YOU are. Now, how can I help? Come on, I know you can think of something. Can't have my boyfriend being all cranky and out of sorts."

 

"Cranky? Am I a toddler in need of a nap?"

 

"No, although the nap might help. You are very much a big boy, and that's why you need to tell me what you need."

 

For a minute or so, John was afraid he had tipped Sherlock over into his Mind Palace and nothing more would be said. Then, a huge sigh came all the way up from the detective's toes and he half mumbled, "You'll think it's foolish."

 

"Sometimes when you nearly burn down the flat or run after a killer without me, I think you're reckless, but I will never ever think you're foolish. So?"

 

"I need you to tell me."

 

"Tell you what, Lock?"

 

Cheeks blushing pink, his breathing quickening, Sherlock looked up at John with hopeful eyes. "Tell me all the ways you love me."

 

"Is that all? Not only will I tell you, it will be my pleasure; and if you behave I might even show you. Fine, let me see."

 

He began threading his fingers through the dark curls in his lap, and started. "I love you like the sun loves the clouds, and like the moon loves the stars."

 

"Really John why would the sun love the clouds that serve to block out its' light, and the moon would have no use for the stars."

 

"Oy!! Did I not say you need to behave? And I'll thank you NOT to cast aspersions on my romantic prescription. For your information, the moon isn't always full and it would be awfully dark and lonely up there without the stars. As for the sun, how do you know what it gets up to with the rainbows when they're hidden behind the clouds?"

 

"Preposterous, ridiculous, inane! Ah...tell me more."

 

"Hmm, I love you like the grass loves the rain."

 

"The grass and the rain?! The rain started all this!"

 

"Shush, git. The grass is like these fabulous curls; long, luxurious and just waiting for the gentle touch of the rain to sink down deep into the soil and caress the roots."

 

Sherlock shivered as John's sturdy fingers petted and massaged his scalp taking care not to pull any Holmesian tangles.

 

"I love you like bees love buzzing around intoxicating sights and smells." He leaned over and made buzzing little kisses behind Sherlock's left ear.

 

"I love you like the inchworm loves measuring the marigolds", he teased as he used his index finger to mimic an inchworms movements down Sherlock's clavicle.

 

The younger man squirmed briefly as the "worm" made it's way to his armpit. "John all this talk of insects and bugs, hardly the stuff of Byron or Wilde."

 

"I BEG your pardon, Mister Holmes. Very well, Edwardian, Victorian, I have it! I love you the way warm scones love being spread with clotted cream or fresh jam." John reached down and pulled the ratty t-shirt over Sherlock's head exposing his pale and freckled skin. *Note to self: Buy Sherlock new t-shirts at Tesco's and make him wear them.

 

"Now I'm to be compared to bakery goods?"

 

"You're every bit as delicious, my sweet fairie cake. Just imagine the sensation of that scone as the cream and jam melt into that soft, lovely dough." John began rubbing Sherlock's chest from shoulders to waist with firm easy strokes with gentle attention in particular paid to the two small pert nipples which were definitely becoming interested.

 

"Oh, and I love you like a small kiddie loves eating honey and then licking it off his sticky fingers and lips." John picked up both of Sherlock's hands bringing them to his mouth where he licked and sucked both from wrist to fingertips finally pulling away from the last one with a satisfied pop, then moving to Sherlock's lips which he nibbled and eventually kissed soundly.

 

"Feeling a bit less mopey, sweetheart?"

 

"Not really, John. All this talk of the solar system, creepy crawlies and fattening food is hardly a mood brightener. Are those the ONLY ways you love me?"

 

"Course not. I've been saving a special one in case of emergency. I love you like a teddy bear loves running round and round the garden." John's hands flew over Sherlock's stomach skittering and tickling until the taller man was folded in on himself gasping through huffs of laughter.

 

"John, stop, John. You're not playing fair!"

 

"You wanted declarations of love. You never said anything about playing fair; but since it IS Monday I will be merciful. My, my. You may not be feeling more cheerful but William Sherlock Scott Junior seems to have risen to the occasion. Guess my medicine is working. Just in case you need a booster shot though..."

 

John pulled Sherlock more upright and ravaged his long neck with playful sniffs and a line of love bites executed with military precision. "I love you like no one else in this world ever has or ever will." 

 

Sherlock flipped over in a flash and kissed John so passionately that the ex-soldier thought he was trying to tie their tongues in a permanent love knot. Then, just as suddenly as the heat flared, Sherlock slumped against the doctors chest and deflated.

 

"All right there, sweetheart? Not that I'm complaining but I was ready for a longer snog."

 

Once again, Sherlock, chest heaving and skin flaming red, mumbled. "I'm not quite as well informed on certain aspects of domesticity as are you John, but I've been reliably informed that there is a particular household chore assigned to Mondays, is there not?"

 

"Yeah, Monday is laundry day. Why?"

 

"It would appear, that is to say it seems, I am apparently in need of..."

 

John beamed a beautiful smile and giggled. "You mean you went off in your pants like a teenager all from snogging me?"

 

"Well, not just the snog, and I may or may not be wearing pants. Pathetic isn't it?"

 

Peppering every inch of Sherlock's face that he could reach with kisses, John crowed, "Pathetic?! It's bloody brilliant, amazing, and quite extraordinary my wonderful, fabulous man! I'm properly chuffed. Let's see about getting you cleaned up, yeah?"

 

At that Sherlock became utterly boneless. "I shan't. NoPe. Not moving from here and nothing you can say or do will make me."

 

"Then I suppose I'll simply carry on. I love you like Mycroft loves creating world chaos and shagging Greg into the mattress."

 

Sherlock jumped off the sofa as if he was burned."Arrrgggg!!!! John, you've melted my brain! It's oozing out of my ears and running down to the floor!"

 

"All the more reason to have a wash up then innit?! Come on you. We'll climb in the tub together and I'll tell you more ways I will always love you."

 

A rainy Monday had never looked better.

**Author's Note:**

> For JaneOfCakes, a "newer" contributor to AO3. If you haven't been following her series "Persistence", give it a try. You will definitely enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope this gave you the warm and fuzzies. Let me hear from you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Pat


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